


I'm Just Suggesting

by monleek



Category: Voltron: Legendary Defender
Genre: Alternate Universe - College/University, Fluff and Smut, Humor, M/M, Mild Language, Slow Burn, Underage Drinking, platonic feelings turn into gay feelings
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2017-01-08
Updated: 2017-01-16
Packaged: 2018-09-15 19:22:30
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 2
Words: 6,241
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/9252299
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/monleek/pseuds/monleek
Summary: Lance McClain is a fresh freshman in college, whose eccentric personality manages to get him into trouble with Keith, another freshman at Arus University. Despite all of their bickering they eventually become friends, and (possibly, just maybe) even more than that.This fic is just another college au with plenty of shenanigans and very cheesy references to the canon universe.





	1. Falling for You

“College is gunna be awesome,” I said to myself as I stepped into the empty dorm room, dropping my blue duffle bag at the sight of the small room’s furniture.

 “Aw, sick, bunk beds!” I grabbed the wooden railing of the bed against the right wall and lifted myself onto it. The navy blue cover of the thin mattress felt cool under my palms as I sat on the top bunk. Actually, they were loft beds, as someone would make a point to correct me later on, but the right name of the bleached wooden furniture that occupied the room wasn’t the most pressing thing on my mind. My eyes scanned the dorm, but there wasn’t much to look at besides the unclaimed matching set of wooden furniture hugging the opposite wall of the square room.

 I directed my attention to the current light source of the dorm, a window centered on an uncharacteristically bare wall. As I took in the view of the bright green leaves of a tree on the other side of the glass, I knew that this was going to be the beginning of something great, but holy cow, I had no idea just _how_ great this new start would be.

 Well, okay, I get it. It's cliche. I mean _obviously_ it was the beginning of something; it’s college, duh, and some fun stuff was going to happen, it's college, duh. But I had no idea the start of this cheesy love story, _our_ cheesy love story, involves me meeting a dork with a mullet and falling head over heels for him.

 

My mom called my name, pulling me away from my daydreaming and into the world of unpacking. She and my little sister had already begun to place the perfectly folded clothes into neat piles in the dresser, even though I’m sure they knew that their artful organization wouldn’t last long.

 “Aren’t you going to help us unpack your things?” my mom’s accent was almost undetectable to my ears. Despite her annoyed tone, I flashed her a smile.

 “Sí, lo siento.”

* * *

The first few days of my higher education went as smoothly as they could. I was able to use my keen navigational skills to avoid getting excessively lost in the massive campus of Arus University, and not to mention, my roommate, Hunk, was as good as they get. Sure when it came to snoring he was as bad as it gets, but that's nothing an iPod and headphones can't fix. The brunette was a big guy with an even bigger heart, which he opened to everyone. Basically, anyone I met within those first few days was through him.

 

As I swiped the key card to my room and opened the door, I witnessed the scene that had been playing in the dorm when I had left, Hunk sat hunched over in front of his computer, a controller in his hand, and a short red-head beside him, in the same position.

“Hey Hunk, hey Pidge. You guys are still going strong, huh?”

“Oh, hi Lance, how was class?” Hunk never removed his eyes from the battlefield on the computer screen, a grimace detectable on his face. He was too focused on the game, I knew he wasn’t really paying attention to my answer.

“Eh, it was alright,” I set my backpack down and watched the chaotic gameplay on the monitor.

“I bet you can’t handle these alien lasers. _Pitchu, pitchu, pitchu_!”

 “Oh God no, Pidge, no, please don’t,” Hunk’s pleas were worthless. One second the speakers were making the noise of a laser gun, the next, one side of the screen was consumed with a solid red with “Game Over” written on it in a futuristic font. Hunk set the controller down in defeat as Pidge laughed his ass off.

 

Hunk got up and picked up a red frisbee that had fallen to the ground.

 “Do you guys want to get some fresh air and toss around a disk in the quad?” He asked, brushing off any dorito crumbs that might’ve fallen on it.

 Hunk brought a lot of frisbees to school with him, and I mean _a lot_ of frisbees. For god’s sake, half of the desk below his bed was littered with piles of the colorful things.  He told me he brought the free company-handout disks he's collected throughout the years, all in order to meet new people, but there was a point where it’s just too much. It was fun, though, tossing them around the quad and finally getting the chance to talk to someone other than Hunk or the workers in the cafeteria. I always jumped at the chance to play it whenever Hunk offered, since it meant I got to meet new people, like Pidge.

 

“Hell yeah man,” I responded, “Maybe there’ll be some cute ladies out there that I can impress with my amazing frisbee skills.” I flexed my arms even though the long sleeves of my shirt concealed any change in the size of my muscles.

“Oh yeah?” Pidge turned around in the seat, one of their eyebrows peaking up from above the frame of their metal glasses, “Your amazing skills? Like the skill where you can’t throw the frisbee further than three feet in front of you?”

 

 _Nevermind, nope. Don’t want to meet new people anymore. We can’t have anymore Pidges around_.

 

I narrowed my eyes at Pidge, placing my hands on my hips.

 “Well, um, too bad you’re… uh… you’re worse than I am.” _Yeah, killer one Lance. You really got ‘em good._ I crossed my arms and put on the smuggest smile I could achieve as Hunk opened the door.

 “Lance, that was a great effort, but let's get going.”

* * *

It was a sunny September day, and the massive rectangle of grass was a little more crowded than usual. This was great because it meant more people would join our game, meaning more people would see me and my newfound skill of not completely sucking ass at frisbee.

  _I’m actually not doing too bad, huh, go Lance._

 I tossed to the frisbee to Allura, a white haired girl with a weird accent who had joined our game.

  _Hell yeah, I’m actually doing pretty good!_

 

Other people would say I was starting to get cocky, I would say I was just feeling  some of that good ol’ fashioned Lance McClain confidence. I took several steps back as the disk passed from person to person, until it got to Hunk. I was ready to test just how talented at catching frisbees I really was.

 

“Lance, what are you doing?”

 “Don’t sweat, all you need to worry about is throwing that frisbee man,” my new confidence at games with saucer-shaped throwing objects mixed with my restlessness was either a recipe for awesome or disaster.  Hunk shrugged and threw it, only there was one problem, but I already started taking quick steps backwards, ready to catch it.

 “Sorry, I threw it too high!”

  _No kidding._

 

My steps became a little faster so I could even hope of catching the damn thing.  I raised my arms up, ready to catch the spinning red saucer.

  _It’s so close, oh my god, I could actually catch this thing._

 When it was just about to happen, the scratched plastic surface of the flying disk almost touching my palms, I began to hear the group shout a chorus of “Watch out!”s and “Lance stop!”s.

 

_Wait, what's going o-_

 I didn’t have any time for any more of a reaction before my foot got caught and I immediately began to fall backwards. My brain, in its brilliant panic, thought _‘oh shit’_ , an appropriate response to the sensation of falling down. I landed right on my back. Needless to say, it was uncomfortable as hell. After the couple of seconds it took to recuperate my body after that total annihilation, I propped myself up on an elbow to take a look at what I had just tripped on. I looked down to my legs, teepeeing in between a torso and the legs of a stranger, propped up in a similar position to mine. _Great._

 

I, one hundred percent, had the intent to apologize. Like I’m not a total dick, that’s for sure. It would’ve gone along the lines of “ _Shit, sorry, I wasn’t looking where I was going, my bad, are you alright?”_ or maybe “ _I’m so sorry, I totally didn’t mean to trip over your crotch.”_ See, I’m not an awful person, but my brain abandoned any resemblance of a plan by the time I got a good look at his face.

 I couldn’t tell what emotion his face was expressing, it was either shock or anger. Before I even got the chance to start the apology, my head instinctively changed its mind. I don’t know if it was the way he held a book up against his torso, the way his form fitting black t-shirt clung to his chest and arms, or the way his black hair swooped down in the back to form that _stupid_ mullet. I didn’t even get the chance to think about what I was doing until I cocked my eyebrows and gave the stranger a smirk.

 

“You must be my soulmate, because it looks like I’ve fallen for you,”

 

_Okay, that's definitely anger._

After a few awkward seconds of silence, featuring yours truly heavily rethinking the impulsive decision I made, “my soulmate” closed his book and finally decided to speak.

 

“Okay, we’re done here,”

 

He reached under my knees and lifted my legs up and over to free himself from my leg prison. Before I knew it, he was up and walking away, sliding the straps of his bookbag over his shoulders as he escaped my general vicinity. It felt like an instinct to get confrontational.

 

“Hey man, what’s your deal!”

 He stopped in his tracks, turned around and gave me a nasty glare.

 “My ‘deal’ is that you’re an annoying fuckboy,”

 

As he turned around and left the scene, I shrugged my shoulders and tried to shake it off, because I, Lance McClain, am, in no way, shape, or form, a fuckboy.

 

“ _Pft_ , whatever,” I shot back. _Annoying?_ _Fuckboy? Who the hell does that guy think he is, calling_ _me_ _a fuckboy? I’ll have him know that I’m the opposite of a fuckboy, a… uh… romanticboy? Friendboy? No, that doesn’t sound cool._  

 I prepared to get up, but I stopped myself for a quick second in recognition of just how incredibly awesome I am. Caught up in the moment, I hadn’t even realized that I had caught and managed to hang onto the red frisbee with its obscure faded logo on top. I stood up and waved the red frisbee towards the group of players, who undoubtedly witnessed the whole debacle.  

 

It was then, I learned, how many different ways people could face-palm.


	2. Let's Fuck Over Lance Day

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Lance is 100% certain that the world is ending but ends up getting drunk with his future husband anyway.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Woah, this chapter is over double the length of the last one.   
> Special thanks to my friend Laura for being my amazing and wonderful beta reader. 
> 
> WARNING: Someone does throw up at the end of the chapter, so if you're sensitive to the stuff beware.

The following week passed with its pros and cons, some of the pros including the cafeteria’s taco night and my latest display of school spirit–which came in the form of what was probably the most comfortable hoodie ever. But there was one con that topped everything great, the discovery that the guy I had tripped over was in my econ class.

You might be thinking that I’m being way too dramatic about some guy who said one mildly offensive thing, at least that's what Pidge thought when I told her about the ordeal, but it was more than that. Everything the guy did after the “fuckboy” incident rubbed me the wrong way, like how he dressed like an emo punk, or how he kept his head propped up with his hand while taking notes in class with that dumb look of indifference on his face.

On the bright side it was my least frequent class, taking place only on Tuesdays and Thursdays. If we  _ had _ to share a class as some kind of mean joke, I was glad it was that one.

 

The day that I came to the cruel realization that I had to spend time in the same room as that wad of wet toilet paper, I spaced out from the rest of the lecture and spent the rest of the period trying to figure out the easiest solution. 

_ Alright Lance, this is a required course so you can’t just drop this class. What if I just never showed up to class, then we’d never- wait, no that wouldn’t work. I’m 90% sure I’d fail.  _

The rest of that class period felt so much longer than how it usually did. Each minute provided a possible solution, but every single idea that played through my mind ended with me failing the class or actually talking to the guy, and believe me, I did not want to do that.

 

By the time the class was over and I had shuffled over to the dining hall I was completely defeated.

_ Okay, this might not be the best case scenario, but at least I don’t have to talk to that mullet-head, right?  _

 

The next couple of classes after that were fine, I sat on the opposite side of the room from him so the chances of us interacting were pretty low. All I had to do was pay attention, take notes, and wait out the hour until lunch. But it took a turn for the worst when the professor announced that there would be a partner project. There were some audible groans erupting from the class, including one coming from me, but I felt my heartbeat faster as a symptom of anxiety. 

_ There’s no chance of us being paired together. No way. There’s too many people in this class for that. _

The professor had the teacher’s assistant get in front of the class and read off  the randomized list of students, two at a time.   

As she read off the list, each time a pair of unfamiliar names were called with no mention of mine, I felt more and more anxious. I didn’t even know the guy’s name, for all I knew his name could’ve been the first one called, but the anxiety bubbled up nonetheless. 

 

“Lance McClain…”

_ Oh dang, that’s me. _

“And Keith Kogane,”

_ Who’s Keith? Please tell me it's anyone but mullet-head. Please.  _

 

After the TA finished reading off the list of names, the Professor assumed his place at the head of the class and instructed everyone to spend the next five to ten minutes finding their partner and and getting to know them.

I wasted no time at all, maneuvering my way through the aisle, which was now crowded with standing students. 

Eached timed I passed by someone who was looking around or talking to someone else I asked each one if they knew who Keith was, the thoughts in my head begging that it would be them and that the emotional torture would soon be put to an end, but each person responded with a no and it made my heart sink every time. After a couple of minutes of my desperate search, I noticed that more and more people began to separate themselves from the crowd of college students trying to find their partner, except the crowd wasn’t much of a crowd anymore. People were beginning to find their pairs at an exponential rate. I was starting to believe Keith probably wasn't a person who existed until a voice beside me said, in what was probably the harshest tone ever,

“I'm guessing that you're Lance,” 

_ Oh God, no please no. _

 

I turned my head to the side, spotting the exact person I didn’t want to see. There was “Keith”, mullet and all. The guy was a little shorter than I expected, now that I was standing next to him, but his fair skin and black hair were exactly like I remembered, and every single physical trait that Keith had made me want to punch him somewhere, everywhere. But I held myself back, he didn't look like he was enjoying the situation anymore than I was. 

 

“Oh no, no no no no. This is not happening. There is no way in hell this is happening,” after my response Keith's scowl managed to get worse. 

He looked to the professor, sitting on his desk not too far from where we were standing. 

“Can I work alone?” It was pretty obvious that Keith tried to tone down his current expression of being completely pissed off to bargain with the authority figure in the room, but anyone could’ve seen that there was an excessive amount of an anger painted on his face. 

 

The professor spent a few seconds silently debating his answer to the question that I desperately needed the answer to, twisting the ends of his handlebar mustache with a deep look of thought on his face. 

He ended up telling us something about “learning how to work with people” or some bullshit like that to politely explain his no, but at that point I was trying not to lose it.

_ If we work on it separately you’ll barely have to talk to him, this assignment will probably last two weeks tops. And after you finish this project, you’ll never have to worry about him ever again. It’s fine. Everything is fine. _

 

As a requirement of being cursed as partners, one of us had to move to sit next to the other and I was not about to budge. We spent a solid minute bickering and he wasn’t swaying at all. 

“Lance, you’re standing right next my desk,”

“So? I don’t want to sit in the back of the class, that’s not happening,”

“One: I don’t see what the problem is, two: it’s not even the back of the class!”

“It’s close enough. Everyone knows that the middle, where _ my _ desk is, is the best spot,”

“No one thinks that,”

Our argument had attracted the attention of some of our (already seated) nearby classmates who had resorted to flashing us nasty glares. The split second where I was distracted with shooting someone back with a look, Keith had taken the opportunity to sit down at  _ his _ desk, all while staring at me, a smug smile almost detectable on his face.  

_ Oh hell no, this is not happening. _

“I can’t bele-”

 

I barely got to start telling Keith off before the professor began talking to get the class’ attention, forcing me to set my stuff down take a seat next the the grade-a asshole. 

 

“Now before I start going into the details of the project, I’d just like to say,”

_ This is it. This is the end. It can’t get any worse than this.  _

“I hope you get along with your partners, because the two of you will be working together for the rest of the semester!”

I dropped my head to the desk with an audible thud.

_ You’ve got to be fucking kidding me. _

* * *

 

I picked at the fries on my tray. Considering the wide range of emotions econ had put me through, and was  _ still _ putting me through, it was no surprise that my appetite was non-existent. 

Keith sat across from me at the dining hall table focused on the notes he took in the past hour. The quiet between us was a mixture of good and bad, since actually having a conversation with him sounded like a nightmare, but the silence between us was just  _ so awkward. _

 

As per the professor’s request we tried to eat lunch together. It was pretty obvious neither of us wanted to, but a small portion of the project would be due the next time the class was in session so that was a pretty good motivator. 

 

I dropped my fry, distracted by the familiar face making their way over to table. 

“Hey, Hunk, my man.” 

“Hey, Lance,” he held the empty tray he was carrying with one hand to give me a high five, the classic bro greeting. 

He turned to Keith, extending his his arm for a handshake, being as friendly as ever. “Hi! I’m Hunk.” Keith looked up from his notebook, a subtle look of surprise on his face. He reached out to Hunk and they shook hands.

“I’m Keith.” 

“What’s up?” I asked, desperately hoping that Hunk would start some small talk to save me from working on the project with Keith, who had already returned to analyzing notes. 

“Oh man, I actually needed to talk to you about something. Shay’s having a party at her place tomorrow, do you want to go?”

“Dude, I’ll totally be there, but why inviting me to your girlfriend’s house?” 

“She’s not my girlfriend, she’s just a nice and attractive lady who happens to be a good friend.”

“Uh-huh, sure,” I gave him a smirk. Hunk was the best person to tease, especially considering if I teased anyone else from our group of friends I would be facing a lot lash back from the “victim”. 

“And she told me I could invite whoever I wanted, so, here we are, oh and Keith, you’re welcome to come too.” 

Keith looked up from his notes for a second time, this time clearly surprised. I didn’t worry, I wasn’t expecting Keith to say yes, and at the time I was sure the Hunk was just asking to be polite. 

“No thanks, I think I’ll pass.” 

“You sure?” Hunk flashed me a grin then looked back to Keith, “You’d be missing out on the opportunity to see Lance get drunk and embarrass himself.” 

The grin on my face instantly disappeared. 

“Wait, what?” I looked at Hunk, shocked. My bro, my friend, the man I had spent the past three weeks with practically night and day, betraying  _ me _ to crack a joke with a stranger. It was one of the highest offences of the bro code. 

“You know what?” A smirk spread across Keith’s face and he leaned back in his chair. I figured that Keith smiling was probably a bad omen. “Now that you mention it, I think I might go.” 

I covered my heart with my hand and gave Hunk the most wounded expression my face could achieve. 

“Hunk, do you really hate me that much?” 

_ I guess I forgot to mark in my calendar that today is Let’s Fuck Over Lance Day.  _

“Well I have to get going, Pidge and Shiro are waiting for me. I’ll see you later Lance. Oh, and Keith, it was nice to meet you!”

 

A minute after Hunk was gone Keith decided to break the silence. 

“I’m surprised someone like you is friends with a nice guy like Hunk.” For whatever reason, I wasn’t really surprised with Keith interrupting the silence by actually talking to me. 

“Oh yeah, Hunk’s a great gu- Wait, hey, what the hell!” 

Keith was wearing the smirk again.  _ It’s official. His smiles are malicious and should never be trusted. _

* * *

 

“Mmmf mmphhh mphmmmffffmmm,” I was laying face first on the floor of our dorm. 

I had immediately collapsed after entering and closing the door, and I hadn’t even bothered to take my backpack off, but the crushing weight of it on my back was comforting somehow, like maybe it would crush me and I wouldn’t have to worry about seeing Keith ever again. 

“I didn’t understand a single word you just said,”

I turned my head to the side so the betrayer of a roommate could hear me.

“I said, I can’t believe you would do this to me,”

“Hold on, what did I do?” The was a slight thudding noise of the closing of his laptop and he peered over the side railing of his bunk.

I furrowed my eyebrows and looked at him the best I could from my position.

“You invited Keith to the party, that’s what you did.”

“I wasn’t suppose to?”

“Duh, you weren’t suppose to!” I sat up and slipped my bookbag off. “That was the guy I tripped over, whose in my econ class.”

“Oh. So the one you accidentally flirted with?”

I leaned up against my desk and dug my face into my palms.

“Yes.”

“And he’s the one who called you a fuckboy.”

“Yeah.”

“And the guy you haven’t stopped complaining about?”

I let out a heavy sigh.

“Yep.”

“And the one that you described as the one who probably, and I quote, ‘uses fingerless gloves because they are as useless as he is’?” 

I looked up to look at Hunk but he was already back to whatever he had been doing on his laptop.

“Dude seriously, yeah, that’s the guy.” 

A few seconds passed before Hunk spoke, more quietly than before.

“You know I wear those kind of gloves sometimes.”

“Yeah, but it's different, because you’re not an emo asshole.” I heard the patter of his laptop keys and he stared at the screen, puzzled.

“I thought you guys were sitting together at lunch because you were friends, that’s why I invited him to Shay’s, but if that's not the case, then were you guys sitting together?”

“We’re doing a project in econ and we were assigned as partners,”

“Ohh,”

“And it’s going to last for the rest of the semester.” 

“Oh.” He looked at me, cringing. “That sucks.”

I leaned my head back, letting it hit on one of the desk’s drawers. 

“I’m aware.” 

“But, Lance, you should give him a chance.”

“What do you mean?” 

“Well, when I talked to him he didn’t seem half bad. You should give him a solid chance to prove that he’s not an ‘emo asshole’, but that also means that you have to show him that you’re not a ‘fuckboy’.”

Hunk made a really good point. If I even wanted a chance to spend the semester feeling anything but miserable, I was going to put effort into at least being acquaintances with Keith, weather I liked it or not. 

“Wow, look at that classic Hunk wisdom go. I think I’m going to get my Abuela to embroider that onto a pillow for me.”

“You sure that would fit on a pillow?”

* * *

 

The party had less people than I expected. Don’t get me wrong, there was still a ton of people, and an almost excessive amount of alcohol, but it was nowhere near the amount of a frat party. Not that I’d ever been to a frat party before, it was just different from the tacky college movies and my older brother’s snapchat stories that I had been basing my college experience off of. 

“Lance, remember, you have to limit yourself,” Shiro nodded to the red solo cup in my hand. He was the only person I knew at the party who wasn’t actually drinking. According to the man himself, he wasn’t a big fan of alcohol and I believed him, but I had a suspicious feeling that he was mainly there to make sure we didn’t do anything too stupid. “You know you can get carried away sometimes, well actually, most of the time.”

“Pfft, you don’t have to worry about me, I know how to hold my liquor,”

“Uh-huh, I’m sure.” Pidge spoke up, her voice laced with heavy sarcasm.

“I’m serious, the second I turned 18 my dad sat me down and told me ‘the US drinking age might be 21, but if you’re old enough to buy a beer in Cuba you’re old enough to drink one in my home’,” 

That was completely true. Obviously, I wasn’t doing heavy drinking with my pops. The drinking rights he had given me were reserved for a can of beer during a barbecue or a glass of wine with my mom at dinner. But that was enough to build some kind of tolerance, right?

“So you’re saying you’ve gotten drunk with your family before?” Keith asked from across the circle of people. His arms were crossed.

“No no no, I’m not saying that at all. Look, I’ve been to my fair share of parties, no one has to worry about  _ me  _ getting wasted.” That one was actually a lie. I’d only been to one party before, 2 years prior, though you might not even be able to call it party. There were six people there, including myself, and only four people were actually planning on drinking the rum and coke the kid had provided. I didn’t even really drink anything, I took maybe a few sips before realizing that rum is absolutely disgusting and should never ever be consumed. 

So what? Maybe I never got wasted before, but that was none of their business. It’s not like I’d get shit faced after a couple of red solo cups with cheap beer in them. 

 

After losing a game of beer pong with Hunk against Allura and one of Shay’s house-mates, I had found myself on the couch and I was starting to feel the effects of the several beers I put into my system. Hunk had abandoned me to talk to Shay, Pidge left to go talk to some other computer science majors, and Shiro left to talk to Allura, leaving me alone on the couch with Keith, which wasn’t great in the first place, but getting worse because whatever I had of a filter was starting to disappear. 

I could tell, the alcohol was starting to catch up with me. 

I don’t know why I started staring at Keith, maybe because he was the only person left on couch for me to talk to, or maybe because the captivating way he was just leaning on the opposite arm of the sofa, looking around at the other people in the room, with that red plastic cup in his hand in an amateurish fashion. 

_ Wait a second. Is that the same cup as before? I don’t think I’ve even seen him take a sip of it. _

“Hey,” Keith straightened the way he sat and looked at me kind of angry, like I had interrupted some deep train of thought. “You’ve been carrying that cup around all night, but you haven’t had any of it. What? You scared of a little beer?” I scooched closer so we were in actual conversation distance from one another in the decently noisy room. 

“No, I’m just not really interested in drinking it,” 

“Then why are you holding it?”

“I don’t know, someone just handed it to me and I didn’t know what to do with it.”

A few seconds passed before it hit me. A let gasp out that was more obnoxious than I’d like to admit. 

“You’ve never drank anything before?”

He hesitated. 

“No, I haven’t, so what? It’s not like it’s a big deal.”

I was in disbelief, of all people, I was not expecting Keith, they guy with a punk exterior, to be an alcohol virgin.

“I can’t believe you haven't had at least a single beer.”

I remembered Hunk’s words of wisdom.  _ Don’t be a fuckboy. You have to prove him wrong. Dont. Be. A. Fuckboy. _

“I mean you don’t have to drink it if you don’t want to.”

Keith looked taken aback. 

_ Did I say something wrong? _

“What the hell?”

“What?”

_ I thought I wasn’t being a fuckboy, I thought nice friendboys, like me, said stuff like that. _

“You go from pushing me to drink this goddamn thing to acting like a considerate human being. What the fuck?” 

“I was just trying to be n-”

“You know what?” 

Next thing I knew Keith was chugging the cup full of beer. Like actually chugging the thing down. After he emptied the red plastic cup, he slammed it down on the table, turned to me and said something I’ll never forget.

“Fuck you.” 

Immediately after his statement he had a grimace on his face, like he was just now figuring out what he chugged down. “This shit tastes nasty, and the aftertaste is even worse. How have you been drinking this stuff all night?”

I started laughing. Really laughing. Like my eyes were starting to water kind of laughing. I wasn’t sure why I was laughing so hard, probably because of the half and half combo of being tipsy and the range of emotions Keith had just displayed, but I did know thing for sure. He was laughing too.

 

Keith started to drink with me, not that he had too, and he was going at a slower pace than I was, but, he was drinking something now while we talked. And we were talking. It was like some twilight zone stuff had gone down because Keith and I were actually holding a conversation. 

“I’m not so sure you have the right to say something like considering you’re emo.”

“I am not emo.”

“No, you totally are. You’re wearing a beanie right now, that's pretty emo.”

“I only wear this thing once in a blue moon. You can’t just base my personality on something I wear when it’s cold out.”

“Then what about the fact that you always wear black?”

He opened his mouth as if he were going to give me a rebuttal, but then shut it.

“Okay,  _ maybe  _ you have a point there, but that does not mean that I’m emo.”

I gave him a smirk.

“If you say so,” I hadn’t realized how close we were, until I felt our shoulders accidently graze against each others. 

_ Oh shit, maybe I’m a little more than tipsy now.  _ I was definitely more than tipsy considering how much I had consumed of the cheap beer and shots of Vodka.

As we continued talking, I took a closer look at Keith’s face, and now that I was actually paying attention to it, he was a lot more attractive than I had initially gathered. I was getting a little overwhelmed by his black silky hair, his deep dark blue eyes, the subtle rosy tint in his cheeks, and just how kissable his lips looked. 

My conscience screamed at me from the back of my mind to not do anything that I would regret, but impulsive side of me was acting like Shia Labeouf, telling me to “just do it”. 

_ He’s just hot because you’re drunk. Whatever you want to do, I guarantee that if you go through with it, you’re going to regret it for the rest of the semester. But, on the other hand, he’s had his fair share of alcohol, maybe he won’t mind if I- Oh shit.  _

My body snapped on me and it only took a fraction of a second for the good dizzy feeling to turn into a bad one.

_ “ _ Dude, I don’t feel so good,” I had to close my eyes for a second. My brain was forcing me to focus on the unsettled feeling in my stomach and just how goddamn dizzy I suddenly was.

Keith took a while to react before widening his eyes, probably in the realization that I was about to blow at any second. He grabbed me by the wrist and pulled me up, then leaded to me to the bathroom down the hall. “Luckily” I was the first person to feel sick, so I got access to the luxury of puking into the toilet. 

We got there just in time for me to lean over the porcelain bowl and expel the contents of what I had drunk at the party. 

 

As I continued to hurl, Keith took a seat at the edge of tub next to the toilet. Maybe he did have some redeemable qualities after all, considering he was staying by my side. 

“‘Can hold my liquor’ my ass.” 

I rested my forehead on the edge of the toilet seat, which was probably unsanitary as hell, but I stopped caring the second my wasted woes lead me to throw up in a bathroom at a party. 

“You’re feeling fine, you have no right to be attacking me.”

“Well I’m not exactly sober.” He leaned up against the tile wall of the tub and crossed his arms.

“So? You’re fine enough if you don’t have the same taste in your mouth right now.”

Our conversation was put on pause while I, once again, threw up into the toilet. 

“I hate this,” I mumbled into the bowl, apparently loud enough for Keith to hear me. 

“Then why’d you drink so much?”

“I… I don’t know. I guess I just wanted to impress people.” I was so emotionally incapacitated that I started to feel tears well up and I would’ve felt a lot more embarrassed if I hadn’t already thrown up in front of the guy. 

“You’re not going to impress anyone by getting wasted.”

“Sure, maybe I won’t, but I’m willing to do basically anything to feel good enough,” At this point I was a full on crying mess. Keith looked as surprised as I felt about opening up my repressed feelings. 

“Oh no, Lance, we are not doing this. Please, stop crying.” It was obvious Keith had no idea what to do with a drunk college student that he barely knew, who was crying while opening his heart out to him, but I just kept talking anyway.

“In highschool I never felt adequate enough for my friends, and I just want that to be different here.”

 

I threw up again, but this time Keith patted me on the back. Sure they were awkward pats, probably the awkwardest, but they were still comforting. While he was there I didn’t even dread the hell of a hangover I knew I was going to have the next day.

**Author's Note:**

> Thank you so much for reading!  
> This is the first one of my fics that I've actually posted before so I hope you like it so far! Hopefully I won't succumb to my laziness and I'll stay motivated to keep writing Lance because it's a lot of fun. 
> 
> If you have any criticism or critiques please let me know, any kind of feedback is good feedback!


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